


Movie Nights

by mechanicalUniverses



Series: Domestic Grimmons Adventures [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: AU, Canon-typical language, Established Relationship, Fluff, Food, Grif's nasty habits, Horror Movie Night, M/M, One Shot, Popcorn, Swearing, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11789064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mechanicalUniverses/pseuds/mechanicalUniverses
Summary: Shitty horror movie night, but they always talk about everything but the movie.





	Movie Nights

**Author's Note:**

> prompt- "Did you seriously just wipe your popcorn fingers on me?"

Shitty horror movie night. Simmons' favorite night of the week. It was a time of peace in their household. It was when he could let Grif put his head on his lap so Simmons could run his fingers through his hair (it was so soft!), kick up his legs on the coffee table (ignoring the complaints of him being a hypocrite), and have a relatively easy going evening filled with... Well, he would say laughter and joy, but it was mostly debating dubious choices made by the protagonists and cleaning up the popcorn Grif threw at the T.V. whenever something ridiculous happened. Which was a lot.

The one actual issue was that their movie night would be held on Sundays, which meant they were often up until the early morning hours of Monday, arguing and yelling about the smaller, mostly insignificant details of the film. It made work hell for the both of them, but they still continued to do it every single week. The relaxed atmosphere was something neither one of them wanted to admit they would miss.

The only other problem was the fact that Grif's gross habits made no exceptions to whatever the atmosphere was.

"Did you seriously just wipe your popcorn fingers on me?!" Simmons shrieks. He snatches up the remote and pauses the movie before squinting at the edge of his white tank top. Yep. There it was. A little stain smudged gray in the light from the T.V. Simmons clenches his jaw.

"Maybe," Grif says with a touch of smugness, nonchalantly grabbing another handful of popcorn and shoving it into his mouth.

"Grif! God dammit, I literally brought the entire stack of napkins over here for you!"

"Yeah, but you're closer." Grif reaches out his arm and wiggles his fingers weakly. "See? It's so far."

"It's two inches away. Just lean over."

"So far," Grif repeats.

"Do l look like a fucking napkin to you?" Simmons snaps. He glares at his tank top again. "God, this isn't going to come out, is it?"

"Hm." Grif eyes him disinterestedly. "Thin and white? Sure. And quit your bitching, it'll be fine."

"Oh, like you aren't already used to it! Half of your clothes are stained anyways!"

"I prefer to say I'm a walking food display."

"That's— What the _fuck?_ " Simmons says in disgust.

"Am I wrong?" Grif looks up at him with a challenge in his eyes.

Simmons purses his lips. He really didn't want to get into an argument over whether or not getting food all over yourself counted as a 'display' because there really shouldnt be any answer besides, 'Yes, you're wrong, it's gross.'

...No, actually, fuck that stupid smirk on Grif's face. "Technically speaking, yes, you are. It's just the _remnants_ of food. People wouldn't figure out 'food display' just by looking at a bunch of stains on your shirt. They'd just think you're a slob, which probably isn't what you're going for."

"Are you actually arguing the—"

"But!" Simmons says over him. "Say you were walking around with a banana stapled to your sleeve. That would be more towards as 'on display.' And sure, people would probably look at you weird, but there would a least be a small percentage who would assume the banana has a purpose." Simmons pauses. "Please don't staple a banana to your sleeve."

"You fucking dork!" Grif exclaims. "Of course _you'd_ actually analyze the difference between food and food stains! I'm married to the fucking biggest nerd on the planet. What have I done?"

Simmons buries his face in his hands while Grif sighs dramatically and un-pauses the movie. They're relatively quiet for about five minutes until Grif points at a pasty guy onscreen staring open mouthed (seriously, they entire crowd has been getting shocked by this thing for the past ten minutes, when are they going to be smart and leave?) at the huge monster before letting out a high pitched shriek.

"That one's you."

"Haha," Simmons says dryly. "Is it the glasses?"

"No, it's 'cause they're hot." Simmons splutters intelligently. It's been years, and he's still not used to open compliments like that. He doesn't know if he's ever going to. Grif lets out a bark of laughter as the man trips and spends the last seconds of his life eating shit. "Also, that."

"Shut up!"

Grif laughs again and leans up to kiss the hollow of Simmons' throat. Try as he might to retain it, his frustration washes out like water from a burst dam as Grif murmurs, "I think I like the real one better, though." Simmons tries to repress a shiver as Grif's breath ghosts over his skin, moving up his neck to his jaw.

 _Right_ , he thinks in a daze, _I'm supposed to be annoyed._

"Not enough to use a napkin, though," he manages, seriously, could his thoughts just stay on Earth, please? He feels Grif hum, and this time he can't hide the small shudder.

"Still hung up about that?" Grif sighs. "How about I wash it tomorrow? I'll use bleach if you really want me to. I swear."

Simmons lips quirk up into an amused smile as Grif moves to kiss his cheek. "Mm. That means actually _washing_ it and not just bringing it to a laundromat and forgetting it there, right?"

Grif stops. Then he growls,"Dammit!" and shoves himself off of Simmons while he laughs, the quiet moment broken. "God, stop being smart!"

"Error-404. Input not found," he answers.

" _Nerrrrd,_ " Grif says in a stage-whisper. Simmons rolls his eyes, but he doesn't argue. A wave of exhaustion hits him all at once, and he slumps against the couch with a yawn. A sleepy, comfortable quiet fills the room, the only sounds being their soft breathing and the chatter from the movie. He thinks Grif is asleep on him judging by how even his breaths are.

When the film ends and returns to the title screen, Simmons can't find it in him to get up for another five minutes. His eyes are falling closed as he quietly says, "C'mon, we should go to our bed. It's probably late.

Grif doesn't answer. Definitely asleep, then. Simmons sighs and starts to carefully dislodge himself from underneath Grif. Not carefully enough, apparently, because Grif groans and mumbles, "Where're you goin'?"

"To bed."

"Noo," he whines. "Can't we just stay here?"

Simmons sighs. "Grif..." Oh, fuck. He's bringing out the puppy eyes. _Ignore it, Simmons,_ he tells himself. _Ignore how soft his eyes look. Ignore the upward turn of his eyebrows. Ignore his pouting lip. Definitely pretend you can't see his mussed up hair from leaning against you, Simmons. Ignore it._

"Please?"

Fuck. "Fine."

Grif's smile was totally worth the exhaustion the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a little short... i haven't been sleeping well lately, and making stuff that's still legible is becoming a bit of a harder task. sorry if you came for something lengthy after a few days of static. this definitely isn't my best work, but i know if i spend any more time on it, it would never get posted.
> 
> anyways, i got the prompt from [this](https://prompt-bank.tumblr.com/post/162418073103/cute-one-line-otp-prompts) post! go check it out if you want. here is my [tumblr](http://scintillating-galaxias.tumblr.com/) if you want to come and chat!! im always open to more prompts and stuff ♪(^∇^*)
> 
> thanks for reading! have a lovely day!!  
>  p.s. i wanted an excuse to write 'the banana has a purpose'


End file.
